


Lost in Translation

by Headfulloffantasies



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: 40s slang, 50s slang, Avengers - Freeform, Hydra, Mysterio's Illusions, Slang, butchering english
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-07 11:30:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21457333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Headfulloffantasies/pseuds/Headfulloffantasies
Summary: Sam needed a translator for Bucky. It was physically painful to hear Bucky mix modern and outdated slang together.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	Lost in Translation

Sam needed a translator for Bucky. It wasn’t his fault. Hydra always wanted the Asset to fit in, meaning they stuffed his head full of the latest slang every time they pulled him out of cryofreeze. All those phrases were still stuck in his brainpan, manifesting in his speech in bizarre ways.  
“Hey man, can I borrow five bucks? I’m fresh outta lettuce.”  
Sam had not seen Steve react so violently to something Bucky had said since the last time he told Steve not to jump in the river. Steve’s head spun around like a poltergeist to glare at Bucky.  
“What did you say to me?”  
“I’m broke?”  
Steve vaulted over the couch to hug Bucky hard. Sam was very confused.  
“I haven’t heard anyone say that in seventy years,” Steve sobbed.  
“Me too pal,” Bucky frowned. “Don’t know why you gotta have a cow over it.”  
“You promised me dinner if I came over tonight,” Sam interrupted the love fest. He got up from the couch and meandered into the kitchen. “What are we having?”  
Sam opened the fridge. There was broccoli, peanut butter, soy sauce, and three apples inside. Clearly it had been Bucky’s turn to shop this week. When Bucky shopped, he wandered the aisles and threw things that looked “interesting” into the cart. There weren’t a lot of recipes that could be made from interesting.  
“How about Bastard Pad Thai?” Bucky suggested. “We got gobs of chicken in the deep freeze.”  
Steve groaned from his spot in Bucky’s arms.  
Bastard Pad Thai was a homemade recipe with spaghetti noodles, no fish sauce, and broccoli instead of bean sprouts. Bucky claimed it had saved him from starvation once in Siberia. Steve said he’d only eat it if he was on the verge of starvation.  
Bastard Pad Thai won, despite Steve’s complaint. He pouted on the couch.  
“You’re cruising for a bruising,” Bucky threatened him with the sauce spoon. Steve hunkered down further into the couch.  
Sam chopped up the broccoli and Bucky stirred the sauce on the stove. It was a comfortable, warm atmosphere of bumping into each other and reaching across for utensils.  
“Am I supposed to put the armored heifer in the sauce?” Bucky asked, holding up a can of milk. Sam had to take five to wheeze into the pantry.

Steve did penance for his behaviour by doing the dishes. Sam opened his laptop on the coffee table. Bucky crashed onto the couch next to him, crushing Sam with his flesh shoulder. “Whatcha up to, fresher?”  
Sam flinched. “Here, read this.” He shoved the computer at Bucky. Bucky leaned forward and read aloud. “Acceptable slang for adults,” he glanced up, eyebrows drawn down. “You don’t like the cut of my jib?”  
“That’s not even from an era you’ve lived in,” Sam complained.  
Bucky shrugged. “I heard it in a movie.” He closed the laptop. “I’m not taking criticism from someone who doesn’t know who the Andrews Sisters are.”  
“Only geriatrics know about the Andrews Sisters!”  
Bucky shrugged. “Sounds like a you problem.”  
Sam ground his teeth and accepted defeat.

The next day they got a call for someone to please go stop Mysterio from blowing up Grand Central Station please.  
Mysterio was standing in the middle of the street on a floating platform, pontificating, when they arrived.  
“In mere moments I will activate my death ray!” Mysterio screamed.  
Steve gave the orders, “I’ll go around behind him, get the drop on him. You two keep him occupied, and take out as many henchmen as possible.”  
They broke like a football huddle. Steve vanished into the fray.  
Sam and Bucky split onto opposite sides of the street, using parked and abandoned cars as cover as they fought their way through the army Mysterio had brought with him.  
Sam was gaining on Mysterio’s platform, but it was disorienting when half the henchmen weren’t actually there. Mysterio was the worst. Illusions were cheating, man. Sam almost broke his hand punching a dude who turned out to be smoke and instead hitting the brick wall behind the illusion.  
“You got a bunny following you, Sam,” Bucky announced over the comms. “Could be nothin’ but she might ask you to jive.”  
Bunny? They were in New York. What was a rabbit doing in the city?  
A woman in all green plowed into Sam from behind.  
Bucky swore in Sam’s ear. “I told you to watch her, Sam!”  
Oh, so the femme fatale was a bunny? More like a viper, the way she was trying to strangle Sam.  
“Kneel before Madame Hydra!” She screamed.  
No thanks, lady. Sam kneed her in the chest.  
Bucky was suddenly there, pulling the lady off and tossing her aside. He gave Sam a hand up.  
“This isn’t working.” They were just as far from Mysterio as they had been when they started.  
“Just keep going,” Bucky said. “Keep his attention away from Steve.”  
Right. Sure. Distract the evil mastermind. If only there was a way to do that that didn’t include being tackled on all sides by guards in tactical gear. Sam wished he had a way to tell which ones were actually worth a punch.  
Finally, Mysterio was in view. He looked like a failed science experiment with his dumb fishbowl on his head. Mysterio was tapping away at a screen, likely setting up his death ray. Sam leapt into the knot of henchmen, real and fake.  
Bucky vaulted onto Sam’s left, his metal arm sparking through a holographic henchman.  
“I always feel japped when they’re not real.”  
Sam grunted, planting his fist in a real gut. The space between them and Mysterio seemed endless. “We’re not going to make it through this mess in time. Where’s Steve?”  
“Hey Mysterio!” Bucky yelled. The villain didn’t turn around. “What’s with the fishbowl, man? Is your face all grody under there? Or is it a fetish thing?”  
Distraction. Sam caught on quickly. “Nah, Buck, he’s a space alien freak. He wants to be taken to the mothership or whatever.” Sam called louder as he shoved a henchman aside. “Hate to break it to you, but they stopped doing probes decades ago. You’ll have to get your rocks off some other way.”  
Bucky slammed his metal arm into a guy and actually landed a real punch. Yay!  
Mysterio’s shoulders hunched up around his ears. He kept typing away.  
Bucky laughed, “Hoo boy, what a laker. Mucho wacko.”  
Sam gave him a side eye. No one gets your dated lingo, Barnes.  
Bucky shrugged. It really wasn’t his fault. He tried again. “Mysterio is a scub name anyways. Bet you were a putz your whole life. Bet under that fishbowl you’re a bag face. You dumb hoser.”  
Mysterio’s whole being was radiating hatred, but he kept on task. Sam had to give him chops, the guy was focused. It took two words to distract Rhino.  
Sam decked another lackey, sending him crashing into a bus bench.  
Bucky raced ahead, still shouting. “Why’d you pick a name like Mysterio anyways? You think you’re a magician or something? You a Doctor Strange fanboy? Now there’s someone with choice style. You’re just a wack ameteur. You couldn’t come up with a better illusion if it bit your keister.”  
“Shut up!” Mysterio whipped around and blasted an energy ray from his gloves. Bucky ducked behind a parked car. The ray sailed harmlessly by, nowhere near Bucky.  
“Hey man, don’t snap your cap. Betcha that wasn’t even real!” Bucky popped his head over the car. “Hey Sam, how much do you want to bet he missed on purpose ‘cause it wasn’t real? Nobody’s that rubbish a shot.”  
“Shut up! Shutupshutupshutup!” Maysterio screamed as his rays blasted all over the street. Cars caught fire, glass shattered and rained down. Live lackeys scrambled for cover. Sam didn’t even need to dodge Mysterio’s awful aim. No wonder Spider-man usually took care of this guy.  
Bucky used the onslaught to his advantage, dodging rays as he darted up to Mysterio’s platform. He launched himself up, catching one of Mysterio’s wrists in a death grip. Bucky shattered Mysterio’s fishbowl with the metal arm.  
“You wanna dance?” Bucky growled in his Winter Soldier voice. “Cause I’m a jive bomber.”  
“What does that mean?” Msyterio sobbed, his wide eyes too human without his helmet.  
“You don’t want to find out,” Steve stepped up from behind the villain. He kept his stance low and dangerous. “Shut down your program, now.”  
It was all easy after that. SHIELD approached once the illusions vanished and took Mysterio away.  
Bucky rounded on Steve as Mysterio was loaded into a van.  
“Where you been, punk?”  
Steve stared into the middle distance, bewilderment painted all over his face. “There was a giant dinosaur. And then it disappeared.”  
Bucky clapped him on the shoulder. “Better luck next time, my dude. Let’s boogie and get some fresh jives before we bug out. Can you dig it?”  
Sam’s ears were bleeding. “How many eras are you mixing?”  
Steve shoved at Bucky. “You’re just doing it on purpose now.”  
Bucky’s grin was all the confirmation Sam needed. “You’ve been messing with me?”  
Bucky winked.  
Oh, this was war.


End file.
